Tomorrow is a new day
by Brilliantim
Summary: This is a short story of George Weasley's feelings about Fred's death. Re-written.


"I miss you!"  
The word slipped from George's lips before he had any chance to stop them. He sighed and sat down on the earth, his fingers digging into the dirt below them, fighting against tears of rage.  
He glanced at the gravestone beside him and read the inscription;  
"_Fred Weasley  
1/4-1978 – 2/5-1998  
We'll always be together_"  
He closed his eyes, trying to control his trembling body, but he couldn't fight it anymore, he was too tired to fight.  
Large tears streamed down his cheeks and striped his face. He had to use all the power that was left in his body not to scream in agony.  
It had been exactly one year, 3 months and 8 days since they'd buried his twin, and George had visited the grave every day since. Because he had to be close to his brother, and this was the only was he could think of.  
George hadn't only lost a brother, a twin, the 2nd of May in that fight. He'd lost himself. He wasn't George Weasley anymore, because George Weasley had died too. He'd died together with Fred that day, and when they buried Fred, they also buried what was left of George.  
He was nothing more than a ghost now. A ghost locked up in George's body, nothing more than a shadow. He'd not been able to joke or even laugh. Ghosts knew nothing of happiness.  
His family, though also deep in their sorrow, had continued with their lives. Started to live again, even though the scar of their loss was there, they could go on.  
George simply couldn't. He didn't have a life to go on with, because his life had to involve Fred. It didn't matter how much his family told him that he had to start living again, they just couldn't understand the depth of George's loss.  
Every night he was with Fred in his dreams, but even then he felt lonely.  
He was sure that not even the strongest obliviate curse could make him forget his twin.

He sighed again, and opened his eyes, but his tears blinded him. He closed them again. Behind his burning eyelids, he could she Fred's laughing face. A face he'd never truly see again. Though it was true that, if George actually stepped in front of a mirror, held his hand over the black hole where his ear should be, and laughed, he could pretend it was Fred he was seeing, and not himself.  
Problem was, George had gotten rid of all the mirrors in his house. Whenever he saw his own reflection, the pain was so overwhelming that he almost threw himself at the floor in agony.  
But now, the picture of Fred's face wouldn't disappear. He shook his head, but it was still there. He started to hyperventilate, and everything spun around him. He lay down on the earth beside the grave, wishing he could fall asleep and not wake up in a thousand years. Wishing he could escape the poison in his blood that Fred Weasley had become, a poison that ached and killed slowly.  
As he lay there, he hoped with all his might that he could sink through the earth and be with his brother once more. To be with Fred again, he'd give anything.  
It turned dark, and with the darkness, it turned cold. George shivered.  
Maybe if he just lay here, he could die as well? Nothing was important anymore, so why not die? He wasn't even there anyway, so why not die?  
The answer was obvious. Fred wouldn't have wanted George to die. He would have wanted George to keep fighting, to be strong enough to try every day. He would have wanted him to make a joke on Percy's behalf once in a while.  
Fred would be furious if George turned up, telling him that he'd taken his life because he was too weak to fight.  
Yes, maybe he should just get to his feet and Apparate home. But no, he wanted to be with Fred longer.  
So George stayed. Eventually it was so cold that George could hardly move. A tear fell from his eye and landed on his shivering lower lip. He was shaking so bad, his whole body aching with cold.  
He had to make up his mind; stay here with Fred and freeze to death, or go home and be without Fred.  
"I need you" he cried out, his voice so weak it was just a whisper. Then, a wind blew, it was so strong that it pulled a bewildered George into a sitting position.  
"You want me to leave" he said, his voice filled pain. When he opened his eyes, he noticed his face was just a few inches away from the gravestone. He read the inscription yet again, a smile spreading across his face.  
"_We will always be together_"

George stood up, stiff and cold, the smile still etched on his face. His fingers gently stroked the cold stone as he prepared himself to Apparate. Before he disappeared he called;  
"Alright Fred, I'll see you tomorrow then!"


End file.
